


swing

by sweetsindle



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Cloudia Phantomhive - mentioned, Cloudy Day, Cold Weather, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Madame Red- mentioned, Real Ciel Phantomhive - mentioned, Snow, Snow and Ice, Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive - mentioned, lost in thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetsindle/pseuds/sweetsindle
Summary: ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ᴄʜɪʟʟ, ᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍʜɪᴠᴇ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴜʀɴ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ.
Relationships: Ciel Phantomhive & His Family, Ciel Phantomhive & Real Ciel Phantomhive
Kudos: 15





	swing

Aster's feet barely touched the crumbly, icy ground beneath him as he held both of the old, rotted rope's that held the seemingly ancient swing he sat upon.

Winter had long since made its presence known. It's December now, it's obvious. Not just in the world's merriment, and utter unmistakable joy, but also by the bitter, unforgiving cold that came along with it.

The kind of cold that that capsulated your body in shivering, trembling mess.

The kind of cold that made it hard to breathe, almost as if you were drowning.

The kind of cold that made you feel completely and utterly numb. 

To anyone who knew about the Phantomhive Tragedy, it was common knowledge that the cold brought a particular, unforgiving ache to the young Earl claiming the throne. A blank, broken, cerulean eye watched the world before him, seemingly going on without a hitch, despite his absence. 

The child was slowly shattering beneath his doll-like, flawless exterior. No one knew this. Just him, and the Demon he had contracted the fourteenth of January, a month after his family's untimely demise. 

For all the boy was concerned, December, and all the happiness that came along with it, was nothing more than a slap in the face. It had been what felt like a hundred years since he had last enjoyed the holiday - though it had only been nearly two. 

He grasped the rope he held onto even tighter than before, shivering against the rigid cold. He hadn't brought a cloak. It hadn't been on purpose - the child had just been too lost in his own thoughts. 

His brother's last words were etched into his mind. No matter how hard Aster tried, he couldn't shake the undeniable, throbbing, gnawing pain, rising in his chest. 

That day, four years ago, the fourteenth of December was supposed to be one of their happiest. And it was their worst. Their tenth birthday was supposed to be filled to the brim with carefree smiles, chocolate, jelly-filled strawberry sweeties, and joy. 

Everything had been perfect. Aster didn't know what had gone wrong - what had led to such vile events? What kind of monster would do this? 

He thought to the last time he had seen his beloved Papa and Mama. Their warm smiles. The hug he and his brother were given. The story Papa read, just after their yummy breakfast as a treat. 

He always regretted never saying goodbye. But how could he have known? Who could have guessed? Who could have imagined that evening, everyone would be dead, stricken with blood, and he and his brother would be sold like animals at a market? 

Hot, burning tears rolled down the child-Earl's frozen, baby-pink cheeks. 

_Papa. Mama. Ciel._

Today was their birthday. They're twelfth. It wasn't fair. No, not at all. Ciel, his wonderful, loving big brother, had always promised to protect him and stay by his side. But today, he was alone. Ciel had lied. But who was he, the rightful spare, the faker, the liar, the stand-in Ciel Phantomhive, to judge? Everyone lied—him, especially. 

A cold gust of wind blew past Aster, causing him to shudder like mad, his teeth chattering. 

He should be inside, he knew it. Sebastian wouldn't want him getting sick. After all, Aunt An was coming over for dinner. But he couldn't bring himself to move. 

In the manor, he felt watched. Seen. He didn't want the servants to know how badly his birthday affected him. The child knew he was supposed to be happy, but he doubted he ever would. Not after losing his parents. Not after Ciel. 

He never wanted to celebrate another birthday without them, no matter how strange it seemed to other people. Aster knew how others felt about his decision. But who were they to talk about him so? It wasn't their right. 

Looking to the field before him, he thought of his family. The boy with the blue eye couldn't possibly describe the emptiness he felt. Oh, what would he give, just to spend one last happy birthday with them? 

He smiled weakly, thinking of the happiness that could have been. He hated to seem wishy-washy, but today was his - no, _his and Ciel's_ birthday. Today, only today, would he let himself wonder.

Only today would he let himself mourn.

Only today would he let himself cry.

Only today would he show weakness. 

_For once._

The boy's fingertips felt numb, practically frozen to the old ropes the grasped as he lightly swung, letting the unforgiving cold pierce his body as he sobbed pitifully. 

The swing he sat upon had been a birthday gift from their Papa when they were only six. There were two - one for Ciel, and one for him - little Aster. Of course, then he couldn't swing that well, but that didn't matter. 

Papa always pushed him whenever he was able. Gramps, too. But Ciel, though? It was one of his brother's greatest joys. At the tender age of six, Aster was usually too weak to swing as fast and as high as his big brother. 

Ciel wanted to help - so he did. The Earl could never forget those beautiful spring days, surrounded by flora of all kinds when it was just him, Ciel and Gramps, -

out on the swings for an hour or two while Mama and Papa did important grown-up stuff that he wouldn't understand until he unexpectedly took over as Earl of Phantomhive at the ripe age of ten. 

Taking in a deep breath, he sharply inhaled the winter wind as he swung mindlessly. 

Aster never asked to be Earl. He never asked for any of this - if he could go back...The small boy suddenly stopped in his tracks, firmly planting his tiny feet on the ground as he stared at the glittering, grass-speckled ground under him. 

He didn't know exactly. But...well, if he could, he would have warned everyone. Someone would have had to listen to a hysterical little boy, one of the Earl's sons, no less? He knew in his heart that, as he might, he would have tried his best to get everyone to leave. To run away. As unbrave as it sounded, why try to stay? Running, and having a head start seemed much more appealing. 

Maybe, if they knew and ran, his family and household would still be here today. Sure, he'd never be the Earl. He'd probably never get the respect he got now, and he wouldn't have gotten his company as soon as he did, but that didn't matter. He was using Ciel's name, anyway. Not to mention...he would still have his Mama to sing him to sleep on the most terrifying of nights. He'd still have Papa to give him kisses no matter how he felt, and whose greatest joy was to make him laugh and smile. He would have Ciel, still. His big brother, who loved him no matter what. Who always wanted him to be happy and protected him from all those who tried to hurt him? 

He loved them so, so dearly. Even if he never spoke about his fond memories with them, the bond between him and his elder brother, especially. If he was going to keep this lie, he could never speak of himself. 

On the day Sebastian set him free, he couldn't have cared less. But...now? Oh, who was he kidding? Only a couple days back, and he regretted it. And now, that pit in his stomach was growing more substantial each and every second. No matter what he did, his guilt always followed him...it swallowed him whole. 

Soon, his butler would come racing into the frigid air, frantically looking for him as he desperately tried to sniff his tiny Master out, followed by a snarky scolding.

Soon, his servants would join the butler - but instead of a scolding, fretting. 

Soon, Auntie Red would come for his birthday dinner, and hold him close, thankful that Sebastian had gotten him back inside before he could take sick (or worse) - and demand that they have their dinner by the fire he warmed up. 

He'd get presents. Not for him, though. For Ciel. 

The cake would be strawberry shortcake, Ciel's favorite. 

Lizzie would drop by, 'unexpectedly,' and give him a memento from her and Ciel's childhood, which he and she would only remember. 

Out of all the days of the year, no day felt lonelier than today. Christmas was a close second, but none could compare to his and his older brother's birthday. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to feel so miserable on his birthday. But fate had other plans. 

The chill brought him back into the waking world. 

Aster's weary eyes lifted, gazing to the field, snow fluttering down upon the earth, paired with the evergreen forest before him. He bit his sticky, chapped hips so hard they bled. "Happy birthday, Ciel...I'm sorry, again, that I lied. I'm sorry to you too, Mama...Papa...it's wrong...I know it is. But only for a few more years, I promise. And then...we'll get to see each other again. How lovely is that?" The small boy laughed numbly. 

**Yet another lie.**

_"Young Master, what on Earth are you doing out in this weather, without a cloak?"_

**Author's Note:**

> A little backstory on the swing(s)! - 
> 
> It used to be Vincent and Frances', and even before them, Cloudia's! - Vin always knew he wanted to continue the little tradition, so as soon as it was clear Rachel was pregnant, he got them refurbished!


End file.
